Authorly Delusions, Persistent Fantasies - #BlackLace #Eroticon #SmutByTheSea @VictoriaBlisse

What would I wear? That was what was on my mind as the publication date for my first novel grew closer, 'way back in 1999.

I'd somehow hit the karma jackpot. My first attempt at a novel had been accepted by the illustrious Black Lace imprint - the people who published my idol and inspiration Portia da Costa! I'd been corresponding with Kerri Sharp, the editor, a seriously no-nonsense sort of person. I imagined the numerous staff of Black Lace, all toiling away on the season's titles, including mine. And I wondered whether the publisher might throw some sort of sexy, glamorous release party for all the authors.

Black Lace's address at that time was “Thames Wharf”. I thought that sounded incredibly exotic and British. I could picture the place, a converted warehouse with a glassed-in ceiling and recessed lighting. I could imagine my fellow erotica authors, all decked out in leather or velvet, short skirts or long ones with provocative slits showing plenty of thigh, wearing boots or maybe even masks. I pictured myself among my peers, sipping champagne from crystal goblets and chatting about sex and writing. I fantasized about meeting Portia in person (I saw her as an elegant, curvy brunette) and telling her how she was responsible for my success.

I had no idea how I'd afford the trip to London. On the other hand, my book had been accepted, despite the incredibly tiny odds. Who could predict what the universe might hand me next? Maybe I could finance the trip out of my advance.

Did I really expect the party? Probably not. It was just fun to think about. I had no idea, though, how wildly unrealistic my fantasy was. Looking back now, I'm pretty sure that Kerri Sharp was more or the less the whole Black Lace staff all on her own. Like most publishers, Black Lace was undoubtedly scraping by, the margins on books getting smaller and smaller each year. Money to organize a party for the authors? I'm sure the notion would have evoked incredulous laughter.

A few years later, I visited the Blue Moon Books offices in lower Manhattan. I was a bit shocked by how small and grungy they seemed. I had imagined that publishers – New York publishers – had spacious office suites, luxurious conference rooms, sophisticated, erudite, well-paid editors who decided the fate of poor authors like me. Instead, Blue Moon was crammed into half the tenth floor of a hundred year old building with water stains on the ceiling and a tiny elevator that creaked like it was going to expire on the way up. My editor was disheveled and a bit shy, almost embarrassed by the fact that he published explicit sexual fiction.

Sigh. Welcome to the real world.

Since then, I've learned that erotica authors are not necessarily all that glamorous, either. I've gotten to know Portia fairly well in the cyber-sphere. She's a lovely middle aged lady with silver-blond hair who lives in a small town with her cats, pouring her fantasies out onto the page. I've been fortunate enough to actually meet some of my colleagues from the Erotica Readers and Writers Association and the Erotic Authors Association. With one or two exceptions, there's nothing about these people that would indicate they write fiction hot enough to scorch the page. They don't wear dog collars or stiletto heels. They have bad hair days and wear glasses, just like me.

I will admit, though, that it's always a high to meet another member of the inner circle. The excitement is palpable. It doesn't matter what we look like. Deep down, each of us knows we're in the presence of a fellow outlaw, and that's intoxicating.

Several years ago, I did have the pleasure of attending Smut by the Sea, a conference for erotic authors and readers in lovely Scarborough, hosted by the amazing Victoria Bliss. That was a true high. I met a bunch of folks whom I’ve known for ages online, including Victoria and her husband Kev, of course, but also Anna Sky, Ashe Barker, Delores Swallows, Kryssie Fortune and Ashley Lister. I got to read from one of my books (barely escaping a paddling for exceeding my five minutes), attended a workshop on writing shifter stories, overall just had a wonderful time.

Victoria is involved in another erotica conference in mid March, called Eroticon. God I wish I could go! Certainly I’ll be there in spirit. It’s being held in London—just like in my fantasies so long ago!

If you’re in the neighborhood, don’t miss it! We erotica authors might not be glamorous, but I guarantee, we’re a lot of fun!

It's almost here! (#smutbythesea #eroticfun @victoriablisse)

Attention, all my readers and friends from the UK!   Smut by the Sea is almost upon us. Believe me, if I were anywhere in the British Isles--heck, if I were in Europe!--I'd be planning to attend. I had the good fortune to be there last year. I haven't had so much fun since the coed stag party my husband and I organized for our wedding...

Smut Events are fun, safe, inclusive days out when our community of erotica writers, sex bloggers. talented performers, readers, geeks & those that love them get together to socialize, exchange ideas and inspire one another. Smut by the sea 2016 is the fourth event to be held at Scarborough Library and this year it is on Saturday 28th May from 10am -5pm.

On the day there will be a host of fun, smutty things to enjoy including interactive workshops, reading slams, a brand new incarnation known as Dr Scribbly and much, much more. You even get your buffet lunch thrown in for free!

In the erotic marketplace you’ll be able to meet event sponsors Godemiche and get to grips with their amazing handmade silicone dildos, have a go on the world famous erotic tombola and win sex toys galore, check out amazingo.co.uk and treat yourself or pick up a book from the book stall and get your copy signed by the attending authors.

Tickets are now available from just £12 (excluding paypal charges) and there are a few limited author and promo tickets left for those who want to bring their books and promotional items on the day. Pick up your ticket at Eventbrite now or if you’d like to arrange an alternative way to pay other than paypal contact Victoria Blisse at victoria @ victoriablisse. co. uk (no spaces). As Host with the most she will be able to answer all your questions too. 

(I should mention that if you've never been to Scarborough, it's a delightful town, full of history and atmosphere. You can read about my last year's experience--and fantasies--and enjoy some photos, here.)

 

Smut by the Sea Snog (#177) - and a contest!

For today’s Sunday Snog, I’ve got an impromptu bit of flash fiction inspired by my recent visit to Scarborough for the fabulous Smut by the Sea conference. One of the great things about an event like this is that you don’t have to hide. You can be your deviant self and nobody will bat an eyelash. Indeed, in my Victorian costume—long black velvet skirt, frilly high-necked blouse, a cameo at my throat and a rose in my hair—I was far less extreme than many of my esteemed colleagues. Where else could I read an explicit excerpt (from Rajasthani Moon) about anal training using graduated butt plugs and elicit polite applause?

The kiss below didn’t happen. Indeed, the characters don’t exist, except as bits and pieces of people I met at the event. But I hope I’ve captured the ambience, the sense of acceptance, freedom and yes, erotic possibility, I felt that day.

For more kisses, visit Sunday Snog Central and your hostess there, the lovely Victoria Blisse. 

* * * *

She dressed like a whore. She wrote like an angel. My cock still ached, a full fifteen minutes after she’d finished reading her excerpt, a searing vignette about an anonymous fuck under a railway bridge. I had to pee, though, and we only had a ten minute break before the burlesque performance. By contemplating the the long, slow train ride that awaited me at the day’s end, I managed to get my equipment to subside—until I got to the unisex loo and discovered her ahead of me in line.

You know how it is in bathroom queues. You’re too embarrassed to talk. You look at the dripping faucet, or out the window, or at your shoes. In this case, I couldn’t stop myself from staring at her ample tits, so artfully exposed by her corset-style top. She’d pasted her name tag across the bare skin of her left breast. Asking to be ogled.

She noticed my focus of attention and flashed me a lascivious grin. Mortified, I dropped my gaze to her black patent-leather stiletto heels. They only contributed to my swollen discomfort. Shifting to her shapely, stocking-clad legs or the hemline of her leather miniskirt didn’t help either. Finally, I looked into her startlingly green eyes.

“Tom, isn’t it?” My name tag had gone missing early in the day; how did she know me? “I read your short story collection a couple of months ago. Brilliant!”

“Um—gee—ah, thanks.” We authors are so articulate. “I—um—your reading was amazing, Isabella.” The act of voicing her name drew my attention back to her annotated bosom. Damn. I swear those tits winked at me. “Amazing. I want you to know—I’m a huge fan of your work...”

“That’s so sweet.” She stepped closer. Her patchouli scent swirled around me. My cock screamed for release. “I’m always so pleased to learn that my writing has the desired effect.” Her plump hand, with rings on every finger, fluttered downward to settle on the lump in my groin.

I sucked in my breath. Was I going to have to walk around for the rest of the day with a wet patch on my jeans?

Then she leaned in to plant her purple-painted lips on mine. I tasted tea and peppermint. I smelled the ocean. Gulls swooped and reeled in my chest. Her tongue flickered into my mouth—oh my God, was it pierced?—as she pressed her pillowy breasts against my tee shirt and ground her leather-covered crotch against my straining cock. I’m screwed, I thought, but dizzy with lust, kissing the sultry, inspired Isabella Black, I really didn’t care.

The bolt on the loo door clicked. Bella stepped backward, swaying on those fuck-me heels, just as the current occupant emerged. I didn’t recognize her, a petite, matronly woman with wild curls wearing a Victorian outfit, but she looked startled to see us. Only later did I discover my cheeks were smeared with plum-colored lipstick.

Bella Black leaned against the wall, crossing one trim ankle over the other, and smiled like the devil. She ran one scarlet fingernail down along my distorted zipper. “You can go first, Tom,” she purred. “I think you need it more.”

* * * *

If you liked this snog, leave me a comment. I’ll add your name to my newsletter contest, going on at my post from yesterday, to win a $5 gift certificate. And you’re welcome to enter on yesterday’s page, too, for two chances to win.

Join the Fun at Smut By The Sea!

This year will be the third Smut by the Sea at Scarborough Library and it’s bigger and better than ever before with a schedule filled with sexy, seaside shenanigans. This year’s event is sponsored by Sexhibition, the brand new and innovative Sex expo to be held in Manchester this August. Smut UK will be there, you should be too! 
 

On the 23^rd May 2015 Smut UK will take over the upstairs of Scarborough library from 9am -5pm with workshops, performances and more to delight you. All day you will be able to indulge in the delights of the erotic market place. Get your homemade gifts and treats from Bella Settarra, and Cara Sutra will be giving away goody bags and selling sexy treats including DVDs, bondage gear and lube. Pick up a book from the Smutty book stall, check out Steph’s Ann Summers table and of course you must have a go on the world famous Erotic Tombola, you never know what you might win.

There will be two reading slams filled with top quality authors, make sure you come and listen to Cara Sutra, Janine Ashbless, Kiki DeLovely, Charlie J Forrest , Bella Settarra, , Anna Sky
Slave Nano, Cameryn Moore, Helen J Perry, Ashe Barker, Jacqueline Brocker, Ashley R Lister, Lisabet Sarai, and Victoria Blisse as they read 5 minute excerpts for your aural pleasure.

Three diverse workshops will take place though out the day. Jennifer Denys will be leading one on researching and writing Werewolf stories, Slave Nano will be Kinking up the Past in his historical and sexy workshop and Cameryn Moore, professional potty mouth will be talking dirty to filth up your fiction or steam up your sex life.

And as if that’s not enough there will be performances from the Enchanting Bea Noir and the sensual Blue Belle and those brave enough can pick up a Free Spanking from Mistress Cara Sutra!

 

Tickets are still available including a VIP package that includes a sexy goody bag filled with treats, your lunch and priority seating in all workshops, performances and slams.

[This is a rare opportunity to meet the mysterious and elusive Lisabet Sarai... um, I mean me! Hope to see you there!]

Sunday Snog #173: Rajasthani Moon

My kiss today comes from Rajasthani Moon, my multi-genre steampunk opus. I happened on the passage while I was trying to decide what to read at the Smut By The Sea event in two weeks.

In case you’ve forgotten the plot line of novel, here’s the blurb:

Neither kink nor curse can stop a woman with a mission.

Cecily Harrowsmith, secret agent extraordinaire, is a woman on a mission. When the remote Indian kingdom of Rajasthan refused to remit its taxes to the Empire, Her Majesty imposed an embargo. Deprived of the energy-rich mineral viridium, essential for modern technology and development, Rajasthan was expected to quickly give in and resume its payments. Yet after three years, the rebellious principality still has not knuckled under. Cecily undertakes the difficult journey to that rugged, arid land in order to determine just how it has managed to survive, and if possible to convince the country to return to the Empire’s embrace. Instead, she’s taken captive by a brigand, who turns out to be the ruler’s half-brother Pratan, and delivered into the hands of the sexy but sadistic Rajah Amir, who expertly mingles torture and delight in his interrogation of the voluptuous interloper.

Cursed before birth by Amir’s jealous mother, Pratan changes to a ravening wolf whenever the moon is full. Cecily uncovers the counter-spell that can reverse the effects of the former queen’s hex and tries to trade that information for her freedom. Drawn to the fierce wolf-man and sympathising with his suffering, she volunteers to serve as the sacrifice required by the ritual—offering her body to the beast. In return, the Rajah reveal Rajasthan’s amazing secret source of energy. In the face of almost impossible odds, Cecily has accomplished the task entrusted to her by the Empire. But can she really bear to leave the virile half-brothers and their colourful land behind and return to the constraints of her life in England?

When you’re done with my snog, head back to Victoria’s place for more Sunday kisses!

* * * *

One day before the full moon, Amir announced the training was complete. “I’ve done what I can,” he told her, as he helped her rise from the bench. “Now it’s up to you and Pratan to bring the ritual to completion.”

Still quivering from her latest orgasm, Cecily leaned on her companion’s arm. “When will he return from the temple?”

“Tomorrow morning, I believe, though I have not heard from him in several days. I’ve consulted the astronomical charts, by the way. Moonrise will occur around eight p.m. If we leave for the mountain as the sun is setting, we should arrive in plenty of time.”

“We? You plan to accompany us?”

“Who else will restrain the beast until the appropriate moment? Who will subdue him, if he becomes overly violent?”

Cecily had to admit this made sense. Still, despite the risks, she would have preferred to confront and couple with Pratan alone. She released a sigh that did not assuage the heaviness in her chest.

Amir swung her around to face him. “Cecily—pet—don’t worry. I’ll take care of you both.” To her astonishment, he gathered her into his arms and nuzzled her hair. “I’ve become quite fond of you,” he murmured. “And I deeply appreciate what you’re doing for Pratan, regardless of your motivations.”

“Amir—Your Highness…” Cecily struggled to extricate herself from the Rajah’s embrace. “I don’t think…”

“Don’t think,” he ordered, and took possession of her mouth with the same self-confident power with which he did everything else.

Cecily relaxed into the kiss. Given his lewd acquaintance with her most intimate parts, resistance seemed silly. In truth, she had to admit to herself that he felt absolutely delicious. His lips moulded to hers while his tongue slipped into her mouth with an authority that did not require force but brooked no refusal. He tasted of masala tea, cinnamon and cloves, with a tart undercurrent that might be lime. Surrender was sweet. His muscles shifted as he encircled her with his arms and drew her closer, mashing her full breasts against the rough cotton of his kurta.

The two climaxes she’d experienced during their ‘exercise’ did not stop her pussy from swelling and tingling anew, especially when he insinuated a finger between her rear cheeks and stroked her recently distended hole. “Please,” she moaned into his mouth, not really wanting more stimulation, but helpless to resist. Already her body was ramping towards orgasm, so conditioned had she become to that state in Amir’s presence.

She was grateful when he released her, rather than pressing his advantage to its ultimate conclusion. She wasn’t sure she could bear another climax.

Lisabet's May News

The lusty month of May!

Welcome to my May Newsletter! I've always loved May - "that gorgeous month when everyone goes blissfully astray", in the words of Lerner and Loewe. Believe me, I've got plenty of lusty and loving fiction for you this month.
  
New and Upcoming Releases

So I have two releases since my last newsletter, and two more coming up within the next two weeks.

The Eyes of Bast, available now from Totally Bound, is a shifter romance with a twist. It features a determined heroine, a devastatingly gorgeous hero, and a villain whom you'll love to hate, but end up pitying. Read an excerpt here. You'll find lots of other delicious bits at my blog and scattered around the cybersphere at the blogs of my fellow authors, who have been fabulous in helping me get the word out. Check out, for instance, my post Channeling the Cat", over at Cheyenne Blue's site. Or why not just give in and buy a copy?

Also out now is the fourth volume in my D&S Duos series, which despite the title actually includes three stories: "Like Riding a Bicycle", about a long married couple rediscovering their BDSM roots; "Limbo", a tale of intense connection, beyond space and time; and a bonus story, "Blind Obedience". Get yourself a copy of this deliciously kinky nugget here.

Meanwhile I have two very different short story collections, both in the 30K word range, coming in the next two weeks. Her Own Devices contains nine succulent and sensitive tales of love and lust between women. (Read an excerpt from one of the stories here.) I don't have the final cover yet, but I am expecting it any day.

I've also put together a collection of dark paranormal erotica entitled Fourth World: Erotic tales of monsters, myths and magic. Two of the seven stories in this book are previously unpublished. Warning: none of the stories in this book has an unambiguously happy ending. What they do have is heat and emotional intensity -- in excess.

I should also mention that The Gonzo Collection by Daddy X (and edited by me) is available now in ebook and print at all the usual spots.

These edgy stories will not be to everyone's taste, but personally I love Daddy's fresh voice and wild imagination.
 
Free Reading and Other News

I added a new "romance" to my free reading page, entitled "Myonphobia". Don't take it too seriously. I've also got an old poem about the complexities of love, entitled "404 E. Spruce Street".

You know, sometimes we authors wonder if there's anyone out there. I have more than fifty free stories and poems on my website. Have you read any of them? Next time you're looking for a bit of love or lust, why not visit? Then send me an email (lisabet [at] lisabetsarai [dot] com) to tell me what you read, and what you thought about it. In return I will send you a free ebook from my back list.

 
I'm doing my newsletter early this month because in less than two weeks I am headed to Europe for ten days. Part of my trip is business unrelated to my writing. However, I'll also be attending the fabulous Smut By The Sea event in Scarborough on 23 May. I'll be reading sexy stuff, signing autographs and giving books away. If you're in the UK, you might think about attending. Regular tickets are free!. Just click on the logo below to go to the official site for more information.

The best way to stay informed about all my releases, contests and events is to join my VIP email list. Just send an email to lisabet [at] lisabetsarai [dot] com. Every month I run an exclusive contest for my VIP readers. For my May giveaway--well, it's early in the month, so I haven't yet figured out what I'm going to use as a prize. Maybe a lingerie gift certificate. Or a custom story... You'll never know unless you join...!

Lisabet's Pick of the Month

My May pick of the month is Emily L. Byrne's blog. Emily is an alter-ego of talented author Catherine Lundoff. Emily writes lesbian fiction, and most of her guests focus on that genre. Expect intelligent and insightful posts about sex, love and writing, as well as scalding excerpts. Highly recommended!

Sunday Snog by the Sea! (Snog # 128)

It's Sunday, and not just any Sunday. Today's snog is part of the Victoria and Kev's Snog by the Sea blog hop, in celebration of their upcoming Smut by the Sea event next weekend. You could will a pair of tickets to this fabulous event, if you're in the UK. If you're somewhere else, don't despair - there's a big mystery erotic book pack as an international prize.

Every comment you leave, on any of the Snogs by the Sea, will count as an entry toward the blog hop grand prize. In addition, comment on my snog and you're entered to win a copy of Nasty Business, the book from which it's taken. 

Now, on with the snog!

 

It’s a glorious day. The sun is hotter and closer than it ever is in England. There’s a smart breeze that whips my hair around my face and leaves me strangely breathless. Like champagne, Rick had said, and I can feel it, tingling bubbles bursting in my chest, singing through my veins.

We don’t speak. There is no need, and in any case, the wind would carry our words away. There is the splash of the waves against our bow, the wailing of gulls, the snap of the canvas as the wind shifts directions. Catalina Island is a low-lying shadow on the horizon ahead. The coast has disappeared behind us, though a yellowish band of smog marks its presence.

Rick and I are alone in the middle of the sea. I feel strangely relaxed, though the lust that he always inspires is humming in my limbs. I steal another glance at him, tanned, confident, in control. It’s difficult to reconcile this with my memories of him squirming beneath me as I reamed his poor virgin arsehole.

He must feel the weight of my gaze, for he looks up at me and our eyes lock. He grins that annoying, delightful grin of his, full of arrogance and mischief. Fearful anticipation shivers up my spine.

He hooks a loop of rope over the tiller. “I thought perhaps we might stop here for a while,” he says softly. Before I completely digest his intentions, he has lowered and secured the sails. The Stella Maris drifts, rocking gently in the swells. I am suddenly afraid, realizing that I am isolated and alone with this man who is, as I know very well, dangerous. A taker of risks. Looking around us, I see other sails, but they are too distant to call to, to far away to see anything other than the pennants on our masts.

“Now, Ruby,” he whispers as he takes me in his arms, “you are at my mercy.”

Despite his words his kiss is gentle, almost worshipful. When he touches me I comprehend how badly I have been longing for this. I melt into him, open myself to his tongue and his fingers, which find their way unerringly to the aching chasm between my thighs. Yes, please, I beg silently, grinding myself down on his invading hand. He slides the other hand under my tank top and gives my nipple a harsh twist, muffling my cries with his mouth.

Everything is heat and wetness, the sun, my sex, his lips at the hollow of my throat, his tongue teasing my earlobe. His breath is hot in my ear.

“Let me take you, Ruby. Let me bind you. Let go, for once, fully and completely, and allow me to show you who you really are, who you can be.”

I break away, panting, search his face. There is no mockery in his velvet eyes, no arrogance, only pure and burning desire. My knees are rubber. I want him, want what he’s offering, even though I am afraid.

“Trust me, Ruby,” he murmurs in my ear, “as I trusted you.”

The blood is hot in my cheeks. All my visions return, my secret shameful imaginings of my own ravishment. He knows, he sees. I cannot speak, but I nod my assent.

He is a practiced sailor. He removes my few clothes and lashes me with my back to the main mast with seaman-like precision. He wraps the ropes around me, under my arms and then across my chest, so my swollen breasts jut out between the two lashings and my nipples brazenly beg for attention. Several lengths of rope circle the mast and my waist. The braided hemp rasps against my skin. It should be painful, but somehow at this moment, every sensation is pleasure.

Smutty Fun by the Sea in Scarborough.

[Hi everyone! I'm posting this at the request of the lovely Victoria Blisse, your host for the upcoming erotica festival Smut By the Sea. I do so wish I could attend! ~ Lisabet]

Smut by the Sea on the 14^th June is the second time the smutters have taken over Scarborough library. Last Summer we had a fabulous time check out the photos and blogs here http://smutbythesea.co.uk/news/scarborough-2013/ and this year we’ve got even more for you to enjoy. 

Sessions from bestselling authors Victoria Blisse, KD Grace and Lucy Felthouse on different aspects of erotic writing set you up in the morning. Start with inspiration with Victoria, then KD Grace helps you write better erotica by finessing sex. The last workshop of the day gives you the tools you need to wow editors and get your stories accepted and will be led by Lucy Felthouse. 

After a free lunch (oh yes, such a thing exists!) we’ll be enjoying the Reading Slam, short, sexy snippets from some of the smutty authors in attendance. You’ll get tasters of some of the best erotica and erotic romance in the country and their books will be available to purchase at the book stall too.

All day you’ll be able to browse the stalls in the side room, check out Steph’s Ann Summer’s goodies, hot books from attending authors or pick something unique up from our craft stall. Then of course you’ll want to have a go on our unique erotic tombola – the prizes are truly thrilling!

Tickets are selling fast, but there are some left. So what are you waiting for? Join us for lots of smut and laughter at Scarborough library on the 14^th June from 9.30am.

Quotes from last year’s Smut by the Sea Attendees:

“In between the readings there was another key component that made SBTS such a fantastic experience, and that was the chance to chat, to share ideas, to meet people face-to-face who we had only ever talked to online before and to discover that they were just as amazing face-to-face as they are on social media.” KD 

Grace

“For an amateur erotica author and long-time consumer of smut, the day was a perfect mix of readings, more formal Q&A but also the chance to mingle with all the participants and ask questions. I was blown away by how friendly everyone was, and how much advice I was given.” Anna Sky

“So, lovely people, smut, PVC, fish and chips and ice cream – how good a day is that?!!” Slave Nano

If you live in the UK - don't miss this fabulous day at the beach!

Coming in June - Smut by the Sea in the Flesh!

 

The always fun-loving Victoria Blisse and her friends are organizing a day of sun and sexy delights this summer!

Smut by the Sea takes place on the 22^nd June at Scarborough Library. The event runs all day with readings and an erotic marketplace during the day (10am-4pm), featuring top authors like KD Grace, Janine Ashbless, Victoria Blisse, Lucy Felthouse, Tabitha Rayne, Lexie Bay, Slave Nano and Ruby Kiddell. And then the evening will showcase Smut by the Sea volumes 1 and 2 between 6-9 pm. 

Valentine's Day has come and gone. Sometimes it seems that Valentine’s gifts last for no time at all. Flowers wilt, chocolates get eaten, champagne drank. But right now, special for Valentine's, you can purchase Smut by the Sea tickets for £7.50 from now until 25^st February 2013. This is a 25% off the usual price. This ticket will get you in to the Smut by the Sea Book launch with free nibbles and a glass of something bubbly plus readings that will get you in the mood for some seaside good loving.

Pick up tickets for your beloved today and give a gift that will keep on giving! For more details check http://smutbythesea.co.uk and buy your tickets here http://smutbythesea.eventbrite.co.uk/

And if you can't be there in the flesh (alas, I cannot!), get into the right mood with the seaside erotica anthology Smut by the Sea, volume 1.

You can read my review at Erotica Revealed. And you'll find a lovely excerpt to whet your appetite below!

Excerpt from A Proper British Seaside Holiday by Victoria Blisse

I jumped on the next open top bus that came along, paid my fare and climbed upstairs. No one was up there. That wasn't a surprise since it was still raining hard. I sat down near the back. I always wanted to sit at the back when I was little and my parents wouldn’t let me. It was fun to let my little rebel take over.

The seat was damp and cold and the water seeped into my jeans. I’d have to go back to the hotel and change again once the trip was over, but then I could maybe enjoy the firm mattress of my bed while I waited for my clothes to dry. Apparently, once you reawaken a libido it doesn’t give you five minutes rest.

It's hard to appreciate the view when rain is slapping you in the face like an irate lover. So I just closed my eyes and enjoyed the harsh rush of wind against my cheeks and listened to the pitter-patter of the drops dancing over my coat. I felt the bus stop, so I opened my eyes. I was near the harbour, fishing boats sitting quietly in the water, huddling together before their next jaunt out to sea.

I heard the clomp, clomp, clomp of shoes on the stairs and I wondered who on earth was as crazy as me to want to sit up in the elements. It turned out to be a very handsome man in a red raincoat similar to my own. He cracked a smile when he saw me, his head just peering over the top of the barrier as he continued up the stairs.

“I thought I’d be the only one crazy enough to sit up here in this weather.” His voice was earthy and deep with a hint of the local accent. I wanted to hear more of it.

“No, no. I’m afraid you’ve not got the monopoly on crazy today.”

“So,” he said, covering the distance from the front of the bus to the back in a few long strides. He was very tall and did I mention handsome? I was sure the wetness seeping between my thighs wasn’t simply the rain. This tall, dark man was whispering to my most feminine desires. “What brings you up here on such an inclement day?”

“Appreciation of life.” I replied with a smirk.

“Ah, that.” He nodded, “do you mind if I sit with you?”

“Not at all, as long as you don’t mind getting a wet arse.” I chuckled uneasily. I shouldn’t have mentioned his bum, I hardly knew him!

“I’m already wet everywhere else, what’s another body part in the grand scale of things?” He sat down and offered me his hand. “Hello, I’m Daniel. You’re not from round here, are you?”

“I’m Abby. I’m from Manchester but I live in London right now.”

“Well, that explains a lot,” he smiled, “the dark around your eyes, the half lingering sense of hopelessness, the rounded vowels.”

I should have been offended but I was stunned by how observant he was.

“You’ve got me,” I shrugged. “I’m trying to rediscover myself. Shit as that sounds.”

“I understand,” he said. “I’m pretty certain we should all spend more time doing that kind of stuff and less time worrying. It has a better yield, anyway.”

I nodded and twisted my fingers together in my lap. I was suddenly acutely aware of his body heat beside me and the scant half inch between his arm and mine.

“Do you live here?” I asked, finding conversation far less scary than silence and my erratic, erotic thoughts.

“Yeah.” Daniel nodded. “Most of my life.”

“Lucky sod.” I said with a sigh.

“It’s not a bad life,” he agreed, though I saw a little sadness in the depth of his darkened eyes. “Took me a while to work that out, though.”

It’s difficult to describe something that happened without word or movement but I realised then that Daniel understood me and my troubles. It’s like his soul recognised the same weakness in mine.

“Look,” he turned his body towards me, “this is going to seem very forward of me but, I’ve been looking at your lips and they’re just calling to be kissed. Would you mind if I just leaned in a touch and rested my lips against yours for a bit?”

Propriety would have screamed at me to shout no and to run like the wind away from the man with determination and longing in his eyes. Luckily I was there with passion, not propriety, and passion urged me to nod my head and lean in to speed up the action. I’m never usually so impulsive but as his lips brushed mine I knew I’d made the right choice. Daniel’s warmth flowed from his body into mine.

Smut by the Sea volume 2 coming soon!